


no more boundaries

by sebviathan



Category: Ultimate Spider-Man (Cartoon)
Genre: Fluff and Smut, M/M, Sleepy Sex, Slight Hurt/Comfort, also what seems like dubcon at first but then is totally full consent, but then, in opposite order, sleep problems
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-30
Updated: 2014-05-30
Packaged: 2018-01-27 14:21:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1713764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sebviathan/pseuds/sebviathan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Peter and Harry need each other to sleep soundly, and sleeping leads to a lot more way later than expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	no more boundaries

Just about no one would ever expect it, but Peter Parker has rough nights pretty often.

No one who doesn't know that he's Spiderman, anyway. An unsuspecting kid like Peter with presumably no secret superhero life isn't anyone's first guess as the guy with sleeping problems.

That said, just about no one knows—except Harry Osborn. Because he's the one whom Peter calls in the dead of night for help, the one who either talks him down from his panic or just  _talks_  to him until he can finally fall asleep. And sometimes, if Peter really wants him to, he'll sing to him until he's unconscious.

Just about everyone will swear up and down that Harry Osborn is tone-deaf, but that's because they've never really heard him  _try_. It might just be bias, but Peter finds his voice beautiful.

Harry knows that it's stress that keeps Peter awake so often, but he has no idea that it's more than just school and the aftermath of Uncle Ben's death. Sometimes Peter really wishes he could tell him (because why not, he's his best friend) and  _really_  considers it, but in the end he always decides that it's safer to keep him in the dark (because that's right, Harry's father helped create the spider that bit him and gave him these powers in the first place.)

And he doesn't need to tell him, anyway. Harry accepts that Peter has some issues and doesn't ask questions unless they're to gauge how he can help him, and not to try to validate how Peter feels.

Harry's a real friend. Undoubtedly the best Peter could ever hope for.

It's at the point now that Peter doesn't even really need to ask, he can just knock on Harry's window at night and tell him with a sheepish smile that he can't sleep, and Harry lets him crawl through without question.

The first time Peter did that, though, he  _had_  asked beforehand if he could come over, and he was greeted with a "One: you could have just used the front door. Two: how the hell did you climb three stories?"

Peter simply winked and told him that he had "ways," to which Harry shrugged defeatedly and never asked again.

Harry doesn't even pull out a guest bed or make him sleep on the floor, either—Peter has a special space on the left side of his best friend's king-sized bed, and he can never help thinking of it as pretty romantic, the two of them having established sides. It's a comfort knowing that when he has a harsh day protecting New York or a harsh night full of nightmares, he can just sneak out and press himself into a space that feels more like home than his own bed, right at arm's length from his best friend.

The worse he feels when he crawls in through Harry's window, the closer Peter sleeps to him. And Harry doesn't question that either, doesn't even bat an eyelash when Peter inches toward his side and then apologizes in case he's overstepped any boundaries.

"No boundaries here, man," he remembers Harry whispering. "Just do whatever helps you. You don't have to explain anything to me."

Peter's never sure if he noticed at the time, but whenever he thinks about that he remembers Harry's adam's apple bobbing up and down once, and a harsh gleam in his eyes—and then he can't help but think that maybe that was supposed to be more than just comforting. Maybe it was an invitation. If it wasn't, then taking it as one might have been the biggest mistake of his life. But if it was, then it might have been a huge mistake not to do more than roll over and pull Harry's arm around him.

They're closer than most best friends are, he guesses. Peter wonders how common it is for friends to spoon like they often do, even in cases like his. But then he feels proud of being able to say that he has such a strong bond with someone, and he wants to brag about it to everyone and tell the world how much he loves Harry.

Of course, he probably won't ever tell anyone how he spends at least one night a week snuggled up next to him in bed. That can stay private.

Harry has nightmares too, sometimes so bad that he's the one who calls Peter over, and he keeps the window unlocked beforehand so he can just wait for him to slip seamlessly into the space behind him, slide an arm around his chest and press his nose to the back of his neck. They both make it so much easier for the other to sleep that sometimes Peter wonders if they'll still be doing this into their adult years, if maybe neither of them will get married and instead they can just live together as best-friend life partners.

It's never weird. They don't even have to try to not make it weird because it just isn't-this is natural for them. Harry can lock their legs together, and Peter can card a hand through his friend's hair once or twice, and they can even lie face-to-face with no more than an inch separating them, and it's still not weird. Only occasionally does Peter find himself nervous around Harry, whether in bed with him or otherwise, and that's when he simply isn't sure what he's allowed to do, how close he's allowed to get. Because in spite of all his extra spider-senses, he can't read minds and he can't always tell whether Harry's nervous or not.

And then Harry always reminds him that their friendship doesn't have any boundaries, and that essentially everything is allowed.

So when they spoon, there's no space between them. Peter's chest is always directly pressed up against Harry's back or vice versa, and their legs either fit together or get tangled, and it's as close as can be either way. Which is why, in retrospect, they're extremely surprised that it's so long before Peter wakes up with a familiar hardness in his groin and  _pressure_  on it from how close he and Harry are situated, and—that's—alternating pressure. From Harry grinding back into it. And he thinks that he's been grinding forward a bit in his sleep, too.

For a moment Peter panics, going almost completely still and desperately wondering if Harry's been doing that in his sleep or if he's awake, and at first he thinks that  _he must be asleep, there's no way he's doing this on purpose even if he is really tired, there's no way he wants this_ _—_

And then it occurs to him that regardless of his state of consciousness, Harry  _likes_  it. It's not exactly common (or the most heterosexual thing) for a guy to enjoy pressure on his ass.

He has to keep consciously trying not to tip his hips forward, no matter how badly he wants to (how long has it even been since he last jerked off?), because if Harry's not awake then Peter refuses to take advantage of him just to get off. Not to mention that there's the distinct possibility of him waking up and getting angry, maybe even disgusted.

A second passes, and Harry's hips have slowed to a near stop, but now that the blood has stopped pumping through his ears he can hear his friend breathing raggedly. It honestly doesn't sound like he's asleep but there's always the possibility, and Peter is still just so nervous that it takes him another ten seconds to finally choke out the whisper—"... _Harry_?"

Another five seconds sinks to silence between them. Peter can feel Harry's heart skip a beat underneath his palm.

"Yeah?"

He almost forgets how to speak. "Can I—?"

" _Yes_ _—_ "

And Harry sounds so desperate, like he wants it  _so_  bad, that a whimper escapes Peter's throat as he immediately pushes his groin forward to meet Harry's ass pushing back. So many jumbled thoughts flit through Peter's mind in a way that he can't comprehend at all in this state—mostly regarding how much he wants Harry in ways that he hasn't let himself think about (not because he wants to be straight, but because he doesn't want to ruin their friendship) and how much Harry clearly wants  _him_ , and fuckfuckfuckfuck this feels so fucking great and it's just  _rutting and friction from their boxers_.

His arm tightens around Harry's chest to hold him as close as possible until he realizes that Harry's hand has gone underneath his waistband, at which point his hazed mind goes into a frenzy and he immediately pulls Harry's hand back to replace it with his own. He wants to do this, and if they're going to do it like this, he's going to do it right.

" _Pete, f_ _—_ "

Harry bites his lip to cut back a voice that Peter has never heard from him before, and that gives him all the more incentive not to hold back with how sharply he jerks his wrist and how quickly he tugs. He is rutting into his  _best friend's_  ass and jerking his  _best friend's_  dick right now, and he's hard as hell and still trying to make this the best possible first time for them given the initial circumstances.

The natural muscle he's built up keeps his arm from getting tired, but Peter slows down once Harry's quick breaths turn into moans,  _especially_  once he starts hearing his name from those parted lips because he realizes that he's still minutes away from orgasm and he wants it timed right.

Quickly, frantically, Harry reaches back with his left arm and grasps at Peter's hair, pulling him forward so that his mouth has nowhere to go but the back of Harry's neck. And he doesn't protest, but rather mouths against his skin and lets his tongue dart out to taste—and everything he's seen or read in porn has pretty obviously lied because it doesn't taste like anything but skin, but it's  _Harry's_  skin, and it's hot and a bit moist from sweat and now he can't stop kissing it.

"Hook your leg over mine," Peter groans (since when could his voice even get that deep?) without thinking much other than— _yes, hell yes, this is so much easier_ _—_ how it'll let him rut deeper and closer to where it'll feel good for them both.

Peter barely knows what he's doing, but Harry must know  _something_  because he doesn't hesitate before doing exactly what he says—and promptly letting out something in-between a gasp and a moan (because it really doesn't even sound human, but somehow Peter's even harder). And then after that sound hits his ears, he gasps himself and locks his forearm against the other boy's hip to pull himself closer and drag his cock as deep as he can.

(Maybe once he has experience he won't be so quick to react to noises like that, but it's his first time and this is  _Harry_.)

Everything is even tighter now, tighter than when they thought it couldn't possibly get tighter, and there's no room between them but for a single layer of fabric. Whatever noises bubble up at the base of Peter's throat end up muffled by Harry's neck, and Harry's voice is so soft and cracked against the air that Peter is surprised he can hear it—

" _Want you to fuck me, Pete, want you to stick it in and fuck me for real_ _—_ "

Peter's hips stutter barely seconds later and he shudders as his cotton boxers grow steadily stickier, and for a moment all he can think is  _who knew Harry would have such a dirty mouth, shit._

And then there's a fluid gasp of "Oh my god, oh my god," and Harry's spilling all over Peter's fingers (and only then does he realize how tightly he must have just been gripping Harry's cock just now).

There's barely any breathing time between the end of Harry's orgasm and when he twists himself around, rubbing awkwardly in the vice that they have each other, and breathes out: "Peter... why didn't you tell me?"

Then it's all running through his head so quick, that his best friend doesn't just want him, he—

Pulls him in and kisses him, trembling but still fast and sure—

"I'm sorry—"

He's—

"It would've been good to know all the two years I've been in love with you," he mumbles against his lips, accidentally clicking their teeth but ignoring the discomfort. "We could have done something..."

Peter wants to say  _"This whole time?"_  because with a few seconds of thought he already knows that's a stupid question, but instead he hastily wipes his hand on the sheets and then grabs Harry's face and tells him in all seriousness, "I'm sorry this had to be our first kiss."

And in all seriousness, it does kind of suck. They both would have very much preferred something sweet when the sun was still up at the very least—but Harry still laughs. Then Peter laughs and kisses him again, mentally reveling in the fact that he and his best friend are in love and now it's out in the open.  _And_  that they've had sex.

"It's hopefully not the last, so I'm fine."

Peter kisses him again, less harsh than they were kissing before but not quite soft, yet. There's desperation there, unlike how he's been with other people, because this is the only place where he's had tension and where he's really  _wanted_  it for a long time. He kisses him enough that they forget that there's semen drying on them, and for so long that they fall asleep without doing anything about it.

When Peter wakes up, it occurs to him that there are no longer any boundaries to cross.


End file.
